Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) (8 page)

“She’s leaving today,” he said, remarking on his sister’s exodus.

“I know,” I replied solemnly. Boy, did I know. I had feared this day for weeks. The day my only friend would leave, taking my life with her. Leaving me here alone in this horridly depressing place. I felt like I was being punished for something I hadn’t even done. I kept trying to remind myself to be happy for Kelly. I did want her to be happy. She didn’t deserve to be stuck here. But neither did I.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brett assured kindly, brushing my hair off my shoulder. “I’ll still come visit you.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

Brett looked at me, bewildered. “Seriously, Liz, you know that you’ve always been more than just my sister’s friend, don’t you?” He let go of the hair he’d been twirling through his fingers and dropped it, letting it fall to my shoulder once more. He put his arm around me and pulled me to him, hesitating for a moment before he kissed me lovingly on the forehead. In that split second I wondered what choice he had wrestled with in his mind before the forehead won out.

I had loved Brett for so many years. Yet I couldn’t forget the pain of the day when my dreams were so close to being realized. A single tear rolled down my cheek, followed by many more, one after the other. My life as I knew it was ending, all before it even began. I quickly got up and walked away without saying a word. I just left Brett sitting in the stairwell alone, the way he had found me. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.

After Kelly left, I fell into my old routine: church, schoolwork, chores, church, schoolwork, chores. Being older and able to take care of myself, the nuns pretty much left me alone. As long as all my work was done and my grades remained high, they let me do what I wanted with my free time. There was only one exception: I must always remain within the confines of MIQ, locked behind the great iron gates.

On occasion Father Brennigan would request my help with a church project at St. Matthew’s. Having an entire staff at his disposal, I found it difficult to believe he needed me. Nonetheless, he would find some pretext to spring me from my iron cage. The excuses ranged in variety and urgency from filing and office work to cleaning the sacristy and replacing the candles. Conversation with Father Brennigan was easy, comfortable, like a long-awaited homecoming. I remembered all the time I’d spent with him when I was younger. How everything had seemed magical and right in his presence. I slid into a familiar groove. Dinners and errands with Father Brennigan were an escape for me. They were a welcome break from the tedium and solitude of my life at MIQ. Being with Father gave me an inner peace that lasted until my obligatory return to the orphanage.

Most days I rushed over to St. Matthew’s as soon as my classes concluded. I would spend the remainder of the day there in the silence and reverence of the cathedral. St. Matthew’s was a breathtakingly beautiful monument to faith. Great stained glass windows of all shapes and sizes littered the walls practically from floorboard to ceiling. The colors, bright and vast in variety, illuminated the church’s interior with every passing ray of light. I was awestruck by the contrast between the vibrant and tranquil cathedral and the colorless desolation of the orphanage next door. The two were only separated by mere feet, yet they felt worlds apart.

At MIQ the days were bleak and the nights bleaker still. Kelly and I still talked for a while, but then the phone calls became fewer and fewer. She loved her new school, her new life. It was all that she’d hoped for and more. Brett was in his first year of college now, so Kelly was constantly meeting new friends. Plus she had her license and a car, so she was as free as she had always wanted to be. I didn’t blame her for not keeping in touch. Her years here at MIQ were ones she desperately wanted to forget. Never for a second did I believe she wanted to forget or abandon me. I was just an unfortunate casualty of fate.

During the first months of my isolation, Brett still visited me regularly, I think more out of obligation than anything else. Our visits were strained. Conversation did not flow as easily as it used to. He still brought me books almost every visit. There was an emerging theme: all Jane Austen. I asked him why one day. He told me it was because even though Austen spent much of her real life alone, her heroines always attained what their heart desired. I knew he meant it to be motivational, but it only reminded me of what I had lost. While Brett was as debonair and attractive as ever, my mind rarely ventured where it had once frequently resided. I blamed my life of eternal piety and chastity at Mary Immaculate Queen. I couldn’t even sin through fantasy anymore.

Occasionally I tried to remember my first kiss, my one and only kiss with Brett. It used to be the most powerful erotic memory I had. Now it had faded, hidden behind a fog. It didn’t have the same control over me that it used to. My knees no longer grew weak at the mere thought of his lips on mine. I knew that Brett thought I had lost my pluck. Zealous nature aside, I did feel like a part of me had died, the part of me that was, well, me. I seemed to fit in better at MIQ than ever, doomed to become just another dreary drone void of any original thought and lacking personality.

For my seventeenth birthday, Brett surprised me with a cake. It was really thoughtful, so much so that I was reluctant to eat it. The cake itself was beautiful, all round and lovely with pale pink flowers made of frosting. On the top were the words “Happy Birthday to my Lizzie.” I was overcome with emotion.

“Oh, Brett, it’s beautiful. I can’t believe you remembered my birthday. I love it,” I gushed.

“Of course I remembered. You’re seventeen today. Only one more year and you’ll be legal,” he teased.

“Legal for what? To leave here?”

“Legal for me to have my way with you. Yeah, but you get to be free of here too.” Brett laughed mischievously.

Quickly feeling the awkwardness of the situation rising to the forefront, I anxiously admitted, “I’ve never had a birthday cake before,” hoping to change the course of the conversation before a pang of desire ripped through me.

“I didn’t know, Liz, I’m sorry,” he admitted, immediately appearing to retreat inward with guilt.

“No, Brett. It’s great. It’s truly made my day.”

Hearing the remorse rise in his voice, I knew the conversation had taken a turn for the worse and was heading down a treacherous slope. But it was too late. I could do nothing to stop it.

“I should have thought of it before. I don’t know why I didn’t. You just deserve so much more than this.” He continued on his one-way guilt trip.

“Brett, I don’t know what you think I deserve, but this has been wonderful, more than I could ever hope for.”

“See, that’s what I mean,” Brett spouted angrily.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t, Liz. Look, I gotta go. Kelly’s sorry she couldn’t make it. She had a school trip or something. Anyway, I better hit the road. I’ll see you, okay?” Brett hurriedly gathered his things, floundering like a fish out of water looking for an escape.

I know that Brett couldn’t believe I had never had a birthday cake before, but it was really no big deal. I didn’t understand why he felt guilty that he had never thought of a cake in the years prior. He’d brought one now, and it meant the world to me. It seemed like every visit we had recently ended with him feeling guilty and then inexplicably leaving. It was a pattern I did not enjoy and desired to break—soon, if at all possible. I just didn’t know how. I think some part of Brett felt guilty for leaving me here. Like he had failed me somehow. He was in a sinking ship and could only save one person, and he had already chosen. I couldn’t be cross with Brett; he had always been so kind to me. It wasn’t his fault I was stuck here. I just didn’t want him to hurt anymore.

In a few months I was to make my Confirmation, a kind of adult rite of passage for Catholics. Brett promised he would be there and he would bring Kelly. I couldn’t wait. Excited not only at the thought of seeing both of them again so soon, I knew springtime meant that graduation was only a few months away. Soon I would be free. Free from here, free from the stigma, free from the sisters. I knew that I had to break free from this institutionalized life, and soon. I could feel the fight in me being sucked away, just like my lost fantasies of Brett. I didn’t know why, but I was losing myself.

First I had to strike a deal with Sister Christine and Father Brennigan. After graduation I would still be seventeen for a few more months. If I wanted to leave the orphanage and start college, I would need their consent.
There was also the matter of money: I had none. I had never been allowed to leave the orphanage to find a job. Though I worked many tireless hours between MIQ and St. Matthew’s, I was not receiving a paycheck. I hoped that if Father Brennigan and Sister Christine were in favor of my attending college, maybe they would help me find a scholarship and a part-time job. My grades were excellent, and like all the charges at MIQ, I had a spotless record. All my hopes now hinged on their charity. I was confident that Father Brennigan would be an ally. It was Mother Superior I was concerned about. It was no secret that she didn’t like me. She didn’t like anyone. I had become the oldest ward at MIQ, a very fortunate turn of events for Mother. My hard work and service at MIQ offset the workload of the sisters. It was like asking a plantation owner to free one of their hardest-working slaves. It wasn’t going to happen, at least not without a flogging.

Confirmation day arrived. My countdown to freedom was in full swing. Brett and Kelly both came like they had promised. I hadn’t seen Kelly in so long that I’d forgotten how unusual her features were. She really was quite beautiful, with her fiery red hair and freckles. She looked older and more mature than I remembered. But Brett was just the same, wonderfully the same. I was so excited to see their smiling faces as I took my place in the procession. Father Brennigan exited the confessional to my right, closing the ornately carved wooden door. He rushed past me down the aisle toward the bishop, who was waiting at the front of the church. St. Matthew Cathedral was full.

“Standing room only,” the ushers announced.

Several different parishes had gathered together for the sacrament, each offering their Confirmation candidates. After the ceremony I walked with Kelly and Brett to the reception. We each filled a paper cup with punch and grabbed a napkin and a cookie as we walked to the grassy knoll between St. Matthew’s and Mary Immaculate Queen. We sat down together and began to laugh and talk like the old days, a joke here and jab there, all in good fun. As the conversation began to wane in places, I could sense Kelly’s uneasiness growing. Being this close to the prison where she had spent so many terrible years ate away at her, brought too many bad memories to the surface.

“It’s okay, Kell. You don’t have to stay,” I said. “I just appreciate you coming. I have missed you so much.”

“Go ahead and go. I’ll stay with Liz a little longer,” Brett urged.

“All right. If you don’t mind. I do have a lot of work waiting for me back at the dorm.” Kelly excused herself. Halfway to the parking lot she turned back around. “Hey, Liz, you looked really pretty out there today. I’ve really missed you too. I promise to call you more, okay?” She waved.

“Thanks, Kell. I would like that. Maybe I’ll see you in a few months if everything works out.”

Brett got up to walk Kelly to her car. “I’ll be right back.”

As Brett and Kelly walked off, I noticed Father Brennigan standing by the church door, talking to a couple who seemed very familiar. I got up and went toward him.

“Mary Elizabeth, this is Mr. and Mrs. Perkins,” Father Brennigan exclaimed as I approached.

My chest began to pound with excitement. Finally, the day I had waited for, the day Kelly had said would never come, was here. There they were, my family, in the flesh. My unnaturally long stay at MIQ was over. I was going to be free, just like Kelly.

Oh my God,
I thought,
I can’t believe that Kelly is going to miss this. At least Brett will be right back. I’ll be able to introduce him to my family. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that this would happen.
A huge smile broke across my face.

I was so busy mentally planning my new life that I didn’t even notice the Perkinses and Fr. Brennigan staring blankly at me.

“Mary, this is Mr. and Mrs. Perkins,” he repeated.

“Yes, yes, I know,” I replied anxiously.

Father Brennigan continued, “Their daughter, Sarah, reminded me so much of you when you were little—willful to a fault.” Father and Mr. and Mrs. Perkins chuckled.

“Oh, she was,” Mrs. Perkins agreed.

“That’s an understatement, my dear,” commented Mr. Perkins.

“I don’t understand,” I choked as my breath whooshed from my lungs. I stumbled back at the blow. “Where is Sarah now?” My whole life, my whole future, depended upon their answer.

“Oh, she is off at college now. She is a liberal arts major,” Mrs. Perkins replied, almost bragging to Father Brennigan.

I began to wander off, forgetting to excuse myself. I needed to find solitude, a place to think before I completely broke down. The Perkinses
would never be coming for me and my fate would eternally be tied to St. Matthew’s and MIQ. Freedom was not a luxury I would ever be awarded.

“I am so sorry. Please excuse her. She really is a very nice girl…” I could hear Fr. Brennigan explaining as I staggered out of earshot.

My emotional breakdown was in full swing by the time Brett found me helplessly curled up on my bed.

“What’s wrong, Liz? Tell me what’s wrong!” Brett demanded frantically.

“P—p—per—kins,” I answered unintelligibly between wailing sobs.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart.” Brett tried fruitlessly to console me. All his efforts were in vain. Not even he could make me feel better. What remnants of life I had left were shredded before my very eyes. There was no going back. Brett lay there beside me on the bed, stroking my hair and holding me tight.

“It’ll be okay, Liz. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. I promise.”

I tried to pull myself together to tell Brett the whole story. I told him how when I was eight I thought I heard Father Brennigan say I was Sarah Perkins. That this whole time I thought I was loved and my family would come for me someday. But now I found out I was just delusional. I was just as unwanted as all the other lost souls at MIQ. I told him about the time I’d attacked his sister all because she told me the Perkinses were never coming for me. How she had been right all along. How for the last ten years I had just been fooling myself. How above all else, I was never going to be loved. I told him all of this and more. Between the heart-wrenching sobs and uncontrollable tears, I could feel Brett still there holding me. Holding me so tight, as if afraid that if he let go I would crumble into a million irreparable pieces.